


Afternoons And Coffee Spoons

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-14
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8089813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcolm has one hell of an evening. (07/28/2005)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Has two endings, the first gen, the second overtly slash.  
  
Written for a challenge by Lt Black Fire, as follows: Malcolm gets hypnotised; Doctor Phlox behaves oddly; Someone gets beaten up; Someone screams; T'Pol drinks tea; Trip does not want to let go of Malcolm. I thank KayJay for the line: "You look like you've been thoroughly fucked." You'll have to ask her for the story behind it. (grins)  


* * *

Trip tapped his fingers on the tabletop in time to the pulsing music, enjoying his view of the crowd as it swirled past their table in the low light of the club he and Reed were visiting during this shore leave. A red-haired woman brushed behind Malcolm and joined the dancers on the floor, smiling at the Lieutenant when he turned to watch her pass.

Malcolm turned back to Trip, one eyebrow raised. He leaned forward over the table, speaking clearly to make himself heard over the throb of the music. "Beautiful, yes?" he asked with a slight smile.

Trip nodded. "You should go over, meet her." He looked up to see the woman still watching Malcolm.

Malcolm shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Go on."

Malcolm was about to reply when a server stepped next to him, a deep green drink in hand. Trip saw the server nod towards the woman, saying something under the music as he handed the drink to Malcolm.

Malcolm glanced back at the redhead, nodding as he raised the drink and took a sip. Her face lit with a bright grin in response, revealing two sharp fangs where her incisors should have been, and Malcolm turned back to Trip, his eyebrows raised high.

Trip leaned anxiously across the table. "You don't know what's in that," he said, nodding at the drink in Malcolm's hand.

Malcolm smiled slightly, placing the glass on the table in front of him. "I didn't actually drink it. I just faked a sip to be polite."

Trip relaxed a bit, smiling in relief. He glanced back to the woman. "She is beautiful."

Malcolm nodded. "Interesting teeth, though."

Trip laughed. "Kissing her might be a challenge."

"Kissing, amongst other things," Malcolm replied, his eyes flashing as he glanced back over to her.

Trip watched the redhead as she danced. He stood and said, "I'm going to the bar, get one of those drinks Phlox had said would be safe."

Malcolm nodded, his eyes still on the woman.

"Get you one?" When Malcolm didn't respond, Trip tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry?" Malcolm asked, looking at Trip again.

"Drink?"

"Oh, yes, please."

Trip made his way through the crowd to the bar, returning with their drinks and sliding them onto the table. "So, Malcolm, how..." He broke off when he realised that his friend wasn't listening, and touched him on the shoulder. When Malcolm jumped, startled, Trip smiled. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Malcolm replied, seeming a bit dazed.

Trip slid one of the drinks in front of his friend, and noticed that the glass that the woman had sent over was now empty. He looked at Malcolm in alarm. "I thought you weren't going to drink that."

Malcolm nodded, distracted, and his eyes slid slowly from Trip back to the redheaded woman.

Trip glanced at the woman. She was staring at Malcolm, swaying as she danced, and Malcolm's gaze was locked on her. She smiled at him, again revealing two delicate fangs, and Malcolm stood, stumbling slightly as he rose.

Trip reached out to grasp Malcolm's arm, to steady him, but Malcolm pulled away, still staring at the woman. "Malcolm," Trip said, concerned, and he tugged gently on his friend's arm. Malcolm turned on him, his eyes glazed, and suddenly Trip was on his back on the floor, dazed, his jaw aching, someone nearby screaming as Malcolm calmly turned and walked away. It took Trip a moment to realise that his friend had just punched him.

Trip watched Malcolm move to the woman's side, and he tried to sit up, only to fall back. He saw the woman grasp Malcolm's hand and pull him in close and they started to dance. Trip managed to bring himself to sitting as he saw Malcolm lean in and kiss the redhead at first tenderly, then passionately, their bodies pressed together as they swayed to the music. They separated and she tugged his hand, pulling him through the crowd.

Trip felt someone beside him, helping him up.

"You okay?"

Trip pulled his eyes from Malcolm and saw a man beside him, and nodded as he stood. The man smiled, motioning towards the door, where Trip could see Malcolm and the woman leaving. "He's in for one hell of a night." The man patted Trip heartily on the back, then left through the crowd before Trip could ask what he meant.

Trip pushed his way through the crowd and out the door, but the street outside was empty, Malcolm and his "friend" long-gone. Trip slumped against the wall. "Fuck," he muttered as he opened his communicator. "Hoshi?"

"Yes, Trip?"

"We may have a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

Trip rounded the corner in the hallway, then stood before the first door. He took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing his fingers across his eyes; this was where Malcolm should be, at least according to Hoshi. He knocked, and the pressure of his hand against the door pushed the door open slightly, so he poked his head through, trying to see in the dim light. "Malcolm?" he said softly. When he received no response, he opened the door all the way and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The curtains on the only window were parted slightly, letting in a crack of light, which illuminated the scene: Malcolm, alone, face down and sprawled across the bed, a sheet casually draped across him, his clothes crumpled on the floor next to two half-empty glasses and several bottles of dark green liquid in various states of fullness. His hair was a complete mess, and he was snoring loudly.

Trip leaned back against the door as he took in the state of his friend, and he sighed. Pushing away, he approached the bed and squatted beside Malcolm, nudging him gently and saying, "Hey?"

Malcolm rolled away from his hand with a muffled, "Sod off. Sleeping."

Trip sighed again and sat next to Malcolm on the bed, reaching out and rubbing his back gently. "Come on, Lieutenant. We've got to go."

Malcolm rolled over slowly and blinked up at him through blood-shot eyes. "Go where?" he asked, his words slurred.

"Back to the ship." Trip quickly looked Malcolm over, trying to determine his condition. "Get you checked out." Trip could tell that his friend was trying to make sense of the situation, and failing. "You okay?" he asked.

Malcolm nodded. "I'll be grand in a minute," he said, trying to sit. "I feel..." his voice trailed off and he slumped back onto the bed. "Woah." He closed his eyes, taking harsh breaths. "Bloody hell," he said quietly, rolling onto his side and dragging the sheet with him, revealing two small wounds, still weeping blood, on his neck. "Room's spinny. I need a moment."

Trip leaned forward, peering at his friend's neck. "Jesus. What did she do to you?"

Malcolm glanced at Trip through barely opened eyes. "What do you mean?"

"There, on your neck?"

Malcolm rubbed one hand across the wounds, his fingers coming away bloody. Staring down at them, he blushed slightly. "Oh, that," he said. "Right." Then he sighed and closed his eyes again. "That was especially nice."

Trip shook his head. "We don't have much time." He bent down and began to gather Malcolm's clothes. "Let's get you dressed."

Placing Malcolm's clothes in a pile next to his friend, Trip leaned back and watched as Malcolm laid there, eyes closed. "Come on."

"I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know what's wrong with me. I..."

"I think she drugged you."

Malcolm opened his eyes, his confusion clear.

Trip continued, "The woman from last night."

Malcolm rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Right," he drew out slowly. "The drink at the bar."

Trip nodded and helped Malcolm sit up, then tossed his friend a shirt from the pile of clothes on the bed. As Malcolm struggled to pull it over his head, he giggled. "Sorry," he muttered from inside the shirt, and Trip reached over and helped him pull his head through, his hair standing on end. Malcolm smiled and said, "Still a bit drunk, I think," as he pushed his arms through the sleeves.

Trip, worried, brushed Malcolm's hair back and stared into his friend's grey eyes. Malcolm's eyes still weren't quite right. "You still seem a little blitzed."

Malcolm smiled. "Yeah. In a way, it's a nice feeling, though. Sloshed and sleazy." He giggled again, then looked carefully at Trip. "What happened there?" he asked, reaching out and brushing a gentle finger along Trip's jaw.

Trip flinched away, seeing a flash of hurt in Malcolm's eyes as he let his hand fall back to the bed. "You punched me," Trip replied.

Malcolm looked surprised. "I did?"

Trip nodded.

"Sorry," Malcolm said sheepishly. "That was bad form." Then he smiled. "I'm truly sorry." He looked down at the pile of clothes and pulled out a sock, laughing as he struggled to pull it on.

Trip took the sock from him. "Here, let me," he said.

Malcolm nodded and leaned against headboard as Trip silently put one sock on, then the other. As Trip reached into the pile and pulled out some trousers, Malcolm asked, "Are you all right?"

Trip paused in his work and looked at his friend for a moment. Then he said, "All this is so unlike you."

Malcolm smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is," he said, still slurring a bit. He shrugged. "I could say it was the drink, or the drug that she gave me."

"It wasn't?"

Malcolm nodded. "It was in part. I'm sure the drug had a lot to do with it. But the rest was...afternoons and coffee spoons."

Trip wrinkled his brow, puzzled.

Malcolm leaned forward. "Ever read T.S. Eliot?" At Trip's headshake, he continued. "You always think that there'll be time enough, later, to act. Always so caught up, scared, thinking, do I dare? You could end up waiting your whole life, you know? Measuring out your life with coffee spoons."

"Coffee spoons?"

Malcolm nodded and mimed laying out spoons, one after another, on the bed. "As days pass." He smiled at Trip, mimicking his accent. "After all, life's what happens while you're making other plans."

Trip laughed. "Time to shit or get off the pot, hunh?"

"Nicely put." Malcolm reached for his trousers, and pulled them up his legs. He stood, wobbling slightly as he tried to fasten them, and steadied himself with a hand on Trip's shoulder.

When Malcolm was balanced, Trip stood and grabbed Malcolm's shoes, coat and other things. "Ready?"

Malcolm reached down and grasped two still-full bottles, then straightened, smiling at Trip. "How do I look?"

Trip took in Malcolm's half-dressed state, bleary eyes, and hair standing on end. "You look like you've been thoroughly fucked."

Malcolm shook his head. "Brilliant," he said sarcastically, and Trip gave him an evil smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Trip supported Malcolm with one arm around his friend's back as they half-walked, half-stumbled down the hall towards sickbay. They passed the occasional crewman, usually eliciting a glance of surprise at Malcolm's obviously inebriated state, which Trip would quash with a withering look.

As they entered sickbay, Phlox waved them to a nearby bed, smiling broadly as he asked, "How was your night?" a flash of amusement in his eyes.

Malcolm snickered as he slid onto the bed, saying, "It didn't go exactly to plan, but..."

"Is that the liquid in question?" Phlox asked, interrupting as he scanned the bottles that Malcolm was holding.

Malcolm placed the bottles on the bed beside him. "I swear, I had just the few pints..."

Trip interrupted. "He was toasted after the first drink. I think it was drugged."

Phlox nodded as he bustled over Malcolm. After a few moments, he stepped back, smiling as he addressed the Lieutenant. "Although you are still rather intoxicated, you seem fine otherwise." He turned to Trip. "He was drugged, although those chemicals have passed out of his system at this point, with no lasting effects. And these bottles have not been altered." Phlox reached to Malcolm's side and opened one of the bottles, then held it up to his nose and sniffed it. He looked at Malcolm over its top, eyebrows raised.

Malcolm looked embarrassed. "Good stuff, that," he said as he blushed, then looked down.

The doctor cocked his head to the side. "Can I try?"

Malcolm looked up. "You can indeed." He smiled broadly and hopped off the bed, sitting on a chair as Phlox pulled three glasses off a nearby shelf.

Trip stepped forward. "But, um...what about his neck?"

Phlox nodded. "I've sealed the wounds. Whatever she, um, took from him..." He glanced at Malcolm, who was giving Trip one heck of a smile. "She seems to have, shall I say, replaced..."

Malcolm interrupted with a laugh. "Believe me, I gave as good as I..."

Trip waved both hands in the air to stop Malcolm from speaking, then sank into the chair next to him. "That falls into the realm of too much information."

Phlox smiled, sliding a chair into their circle. "In other words, he's fine." The doctor poured two small drinks, then looked to Trip, who simply shook his head in amazement as Phlox poured a third serving.

Malcolm raised his glass and said, "Cheers!" He drank the whole thing down in one quick gulp. Phlox joined him, sipping gently. Malcolm laughed, then reached over and poured himself another. "Let's get pissed, will we?"

Trip muttered, "I think you're already there," as he took a small sip from his glass. The stuff really wasn't bad, actually, so he took another. He turned his head when he heard the sound of the doors opening and saw T'Pol entering, holding a small cup of a hot drink, the steam still rising off its surface.

"Doctor, I..." T'Pol began, stopping herself when she saw the scene before her. She stood still, raising one eyebrow. "If this is a bad time..."

"No, no," Phlox said, waving her over. "Please join us. We're just sampling a local beverage." He pulled over a fourth chair.

Trip said, "And Phlox is studying its effects on..." He waved at Malcolm, who raised his glass to T'Pol, smiling before he downed it.

T'Pol joined them, sitting on the edge of her chair, the hot drink balanced delicately between her palms, a soft, almost minty scent wafting through the air. "And the Lieutenant is a willing participant in this study?"

Malcolm nodded enthusiastically. "Quite. Try some?" He moved his glass towards her, and she shook her head, sniffing the air that had been displaced by his movement. She looked at him sharply.

"No thank you, Lieutenant," she said crisply, leaning away from him slightly, then standing. "I had simply stopped by to bring the doctor some of the tea he'd asked about." She took another sniff, and then a step backwards, away from Malcolm. She turned to the doctor. "But perhaps another time." He nodded as she turned quickly, taking a deep sniff of the tea, then sipping it as she exited.

"What, do I offend?" Malcolm asked in jest as the doors closed behind her.

Trip leaned towards him, dropping his voice. "You probably reek of...ahem." He raised his eyebrows.

Malcolm smiled, his eyes glassy. "Ah, yes. Right." He stood, stumbling a bit. "Perhaps I should shower, hmm?"

Phlox capped the bottle and handed it to him, then turned to Trip. "It may be best if you would help the Lieutenant back to his cabin. He's had quite the night."

Trip nodded. "Will he be okay?"

Phlox smiled. "Absolutely. It's relatively harmless. He should be fine after some sleep."


	4. a: Gen Ending

Trip dumped Malcolm's stuff on his friend's desk chair as Malcolm sat down on the bed.

"I don't know why I'm so tired," Malcolm said, leaning his back against the bulkhead.

"I can think of several reasons," replied Trip with a tinge of sarcasm. When he saw Malcolm yawn, and his eyes flutter closed, Trip's voice softened. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"I should shower," Malcolm said, his voice heavily slurred, his eyes still closed.

Trip stepped to his bed and sat on its edge. "You can do that in the morning. Lie down."

"I'll get my sheets dirty," Malcolm said, his eyes opening slightly.

Trip laughed. "Don't worry about your sheets. Lie down." He pushed gently on Malcolm's shoulder, and his friend tumbled to the side, limp as a rag doll. Trip shifted slightly to give Malcolm more room, and then pulled a blanket up over him. Malcolm closed his eyes again, and sighed. Trip patted his arm, and Malcolm grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Thanks."

Trip squeezed back. "No worries. That's what friends are for." He watched Malcolm lying there for a moment, then said, "Why did you drink it?"

Malcolm, his eyes still closed, responded with a soft, "Hmm?"

"The drink she'd sent over. You said you weren't going to drink it, but when I got back..."

"Ah, yes," Malcolm replied. "You know, I don't actually remember drinking it." He sighed, and shifted to make himself more comfortable on the bed. "One moment, I was looking into her eyes--deep green eyes, amazing, actually..."

"Malcolm?"

"Hmm?"

"The drink."

"Oh, right, sorry. I was looking into her eyes, then, um...you were on the floor, and then I was kissing her." Malcolm opened his eyes. "Remember what we were talking about, after all that?" At Trip's look of confusion, Malcolm explained. "Afternoons and coffee spoons. Risks to be taken."

Trip nodded. "Having the courage to act?"

Malcolm yawned, and closed his eyes again, murmuring, "Or will you wait forever, letting time pass you by, never daring?"

"To bite into that peach," Trip said softly.

Malcolm gave a small giggle, then said, "I suppose that her bum is a bit peachy, yes, but..."

Trip tensed. "Whose bum?"

Malcolm rubbed Trip's hand. "I know that you're interested in her, Trip. T'Pol. I know it's scary. But if you don't..." He yawned hugely.

When he didn't continue, Trip spoke, "If I don't..."

Malcolm's eyes blinked open lazily, and he held Trip in his gaze. "You'll never know. And that would be a tragedy."

"Ah, yes." Trip sat still for a moment, and Malcolm smiled at him gently. "Thanks."

Malcolm nodded. "Good night, Trip."

"Night, Malcolm."


	5. b: Slash Ending

Trip dumped Malcolm's stuff on his friend's desk chair as Malcolm sat down on the bed.

"I don't know why I'm so tired," Malcolm said, leaning his back against the bulkhead.

"I can think of several reasons," replied Trip with a tinge of sarcasm. When he saw Malcolm yawn, and his eyes flutter closed, Trip's voice softened. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"I should shower," Malcolm said, his voice heavily slurred, his eyes still closed.

Trip stepped to his bed and sat on its edge. "You can do that in the morning. Lie down."

"I'll get my sheets dirty," Malcolm said, his eyes opening slightly.

Trip laughed. "Don't worry about your sheets. Lie down." He pushed gently on Malcolm's shoulder, and his friend tumbled to the side, limp as a rag doll. Trip shifted slightly to give Malcolm more room, and then pulled a blanket up over him. Malcolm closed his eyes again, and sighed. Trip patted his arm, and Malcolm grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Thanks."

Trip squeezed back. "No worries. That's what friends are for." He watched Malcolm lying there for a moment, then said, "Why did you drink it?"

Malcolm, his eyes still closed, responded with a soft, "Hmm?"

"The drink she'd sent over. You said you weren't going to drink it, but when I got back..."

"Ah, yes," Malcolm replied. "You know, I don't actually remember drinking it." He sighed, and shifted to make himself more comfortable on the bed. "One moment, I was looking into her eyes--deep green eyes, amazing, actually..."

"Malcolm?"

"Hmm?"

"The drink."

"Oh, right, sorry. I was looking into her eyes, then, um...you were on the floor, and then I was kissing her." Malcolm opened his eyes. "Remember what we were talking about, after all that?" At Trip's look of confusion, Malcolm explained. "Afternoons and coffee spoons. Risks to be taken."

Trip nodded. "Having the courage to act?"

Malcolm yawned, and closed his eyes again, murmuring, "Or will you wait forever, letting time pass you by, never daring?"

"To bite into that peach," Trip said softly.

Malcolm gave a small giggle, then rubbed Trip's hand. "I know it's scary. But if you don't..." He yawned hugely.

When he didn't continue, Trip spoke, "If I don't..."

Malcolm's eyes blinked open lazily, and he held Trip in his gaze. "You'll never know. And that would be a tragedy."

"Ah, yes." Trip sat still for a moment, staring into Malcolm's bluegrey eyes. He felt a soft tug at his hand, and Malcolm drew it to his mouth. Still holding Trip in his gaze, he feathered a soft kiss on Trip's palm, his breath hot against the skin. Trip gasped, and Malcolm smiled up at him gently.

"Stay," Malcolm said quietly.

"I shouldn't, I mean, I..."

Malcolm licked the surface of Trip's open palm, and Trip felt it, feather soft, his skin cooling quickly as Malcolm's tongue moved away. Trip watched as Malcolm's tongue trailed along his index finger, Malcolm staring at him intensely as he sucked on its tip, then bit. Trip groaned slightly, and closed his eyes to compose himself. Malcolm pulled Trip's finger from his mouth and tugged on Trip's hand, pulling him close, their faces inches apart, and Trip's eyes flashed open.

Malcolm whispered, "Stay."

"We shouldn't. You're drunk, and..."

"It's what I want." Malcolm reached up with his free hand and traced a delicate finger along Trip's bruised jaw. "You're what I want." Malcolm placed his hand behind Trip's head, fingers in his hair, and drew him in close. He paused for a moment, simply staring into Trip's eyes, and then he broke out in a broad smile. "You, Trip."

Trip couldn't help himself. He smiled back.


End file.
